The Reason Why
by The Unbelievable
Summary: This is a two part story. Part One- Look into the lives of a select few as they grow up. Part Two- Look ionto the way their lives forever change. But will their lives forever remain?
1. Part 1 Ch 1

**You know, I have got to stay out of the Transformers archive. I'm starting to think of stories for them, and even for a 'verse that I haven't even watched that much because I found it insulting I mean, seriously? Sentinel gets a huge ship and Optimus is leader of a Space Bridge Repair Crew. I do indeed find that very insulting to them…**

**Anyway, I decided that my sick mind is going to go into play with the TF:A verse**

**Warnings: mpreg (I am indeed obsessed because it is fun to write), yaoi (what do you expect of me by now, I only got one (maybe two) stories that have straight pairings), mild Autobot bashing, and unexplainable situations as well as Cybertronian swearing. I'm even using those words in real life! No one knows what I'm talking about! XD**

**Summary:**

**Part One: They were special mechs and femmes. Their sparks held extra energies that, when shared with another spark, they could create new life within their very bodies. There were many, now there was few. Some even hiding in plain sight.**

**Part Two: They weren't supposed to have been gone that long. They thought Bumblebee could handle things fine on his own, not to mention he could call them if he needed help. The mission was supposed to be a short one. They didn't think things could get so out of hand within a few years.**

**Disclaimer: I own Starflight and Blazetrack. Everyone else does not belong to me.**

_**12345678987654321 Part One-One 12345678987654321**_

Many thought that Autobots were compassionate. They wished no harm on anyone other than the destructive Decepticons. One would think that just because of what they stood for, all the Autobots were good mechs and femmes that protected the innocent. That they worked in teams that eventually became a family and none would think of betraying each other.

Unfortunately, this was not true in all cases.

Hidden away from the Decepticons was a small base, filled with mechs and femmes. A small portion of these residents were not even Autobots, but special mechs and femmes known as Breeders.

Normally, when one wished for a sparkling, they would build a protoform and either beg the All Spark to give life to the new one or have a medic break small pieces from their sparks to place into these shells. The All Spark would grant a brand new spark, one that had not seen any horrors or peace of the world around it, giving it a personality all its own. The new spark would eventually mature and become their own mech or femme.

Medics were trained to gently removed small portions of the spark to plant into a protoform, making sure to keep one or both creators as well as the newly sparked protoform in their clinics for a while to make sure there were no complications. In a few ways, it was a common practice, placing pieces of both creators' sparks into the new shell to form a tighter bond with their child. The spark shards would eventually blend together, making a semi-new spark and mature at a normal rate.

No one was sure where the Breeders came from. Did the All Spark give too much energy to one being? Were they gifts from Primus? No one knew. All that was known about Breeder history was when the first Breeder appeared. It was true that interfacing normally had no purpose other than pleasure, but the merging or bonding of sparks did have a purpose. To form bonds with those they loved and cared for. To share their sparks and forever be one with that loved one.

Many years ago when Cybertron was still young and at peace, a young, noble femme felt something unusual within her chassis. A medic later confirmed that she had somehow managed to spark a new life within her chest, a young spark tied to her own by a single strand of spark energy. Her mate had been ecstatic and many wondered if it was possible for other femmes. But no, this femme was the only one within the city it happened to so far, and she gave her mate many children before offlining at a ripe age, her children grown and bonded.

In the slums of Cybertron, the same happened to a mech that had his adult form for nearly five vorns, still young but fully grown. The same thing that he had felt in his chassis was similar to that femme from the Noble Family, and the same events happened to him. The difference was that he had no sparkmate and was unable to keep any of the few children he carried and birthed.

It started to happen all over Cybertron, from the Towers to the Slums and even to the Seekers of Vos, which truly wasn't a surprise there, as well as the Praxians of Praxus. It was soon found out that few children born from these Breeders had the same ability, to create and nurse new sparks within themselves while spare metals within their frames were used to create protoforms within their abdomen.

No one could tell who was a Breeder and who wasn't until they carried their first new spark, yet the Breeders that bore them seemed to know very easily.

When the war started, many of the Breeders were rounded up and hidden away from the Decepticons. The Autobots feared that Megatron would order all Breeders captured and they would suffer horrendous fates, breeding with the Cons by force and birthing more for Megatron's army, or worse, offlining all of them. The Breeders, trusting the gentle sparks of the Autobots, did as they were told and hid away.

Then the All Spark, their main source of life, was removed from the planet before Megatron could get his hands on it. The race started to kill itself out with the civil war consuming the planet. Megatron's ruthless forces eventually seemed to outnumber the Autobots and they soon became too desperate to care for others. Most did not want such things to happen, while others simply believed that they were doing a right act. They were helping the species continue as well as bringing forth new sparks that could train and fight when older.

One sparkling was born and another was soon forced onto the Carrier. Thus the Breeders turned from beautiful mechs and femmes with slender bodies one would think had not much power, to mere items used for nothing more than their title suggest, breeding.

_**12345678987654321**_

The femme screamed in pain, her sparkling small but she could fell the distress from the poor thing, unsure of what was happening. The medic that always handled her and her sparklings ordered her to start pushing the new one out of her body. A sharp pain shot through her and she started to push, screaming as she did so. She knew what to do. She had so many before, all taken from her by their Sires. She did not want this life, yet she was born into it herself. Many Cybertronians were born from breeders, most of the younger ones actually, while the older ones and few younger were created the old fashion way.

And she knew the new one within her, scared of emerging now that it realized it was causing her pain, would suffer the same fate. Unless she was smiled upon by Primus just this once.

Three breems later and she could hear her new sparkling shrieking his little vocals out. A small smile graced her lip components when she saw her new son's yellow form, soon washed of her oil and energon and wrapped in a thermal blanket. She was right, he is small.

"I got a bit of news about this one," an Autobot soldier said to the medic holding her new small one. "The Creator was KIA. There's no one to take this one in."

"Then what do we do with him?" the medic asked, holding the sparkling close to her chassis.

"We can send him to the sparkling center and he can be raised there until he's ready for training," the soldier replied.

The femme bared her denta and hissed out, "No." Both looked at her in shock. "He's my sparkling, I can take care of him! Just because his creator isn't here doesn't mean I can't raise my own sparkling! I've carried him for months! I have a right to raise my own sparkling, not some strangers!"

"Starflight," the medic called softly, making her way to the femme. "Easy. Here, hold your little one."

"Thank you," Starflight whispered, wrapping her arms around the small mechling as the medic went back to the soldier.

She ignored the soldier that was arguing with the medic now, intent one actually spending as much time as she could with her newborn before he was taken away. She knew he would be, just like all her others. He would be taken away, raised to be an Autobot warrior, and when he fell in love and interfaced, he would bare a new spark and be dragged back here to be just like any other Breeder.

He was a beautiful mechling, a bright yellow with black trimming. His bright blue optics looked up at her curiously and she smiled gently back at him. He chirped and clicked, waving his little arms up at her. She lowered her face and let his little servos explore her facial features, kissing his palms.

He would be taken, and she knew it. They all were. No one wanted sparklings raised by Breeders now-a-days, raised in believing that what was happening was wrong. True that they would then strive to be high enough in the power chain to make a difference, but it would be a difference that they did not want.

She jumped when the Autobot stomped off, grumbling lowly while her medic smirked victoriously. Once noticing the femme staring at her, the medic's victorious smirk turned into a soft smile. She went over and gently rubbed the still-exhausted femme's helm. "It may take a few more to convince," she started, "but you get to keep this one."

Starflight stared at her medic in shock. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don't know what you told him, but thank you."

Her medic chuckled softly then looked down at the clicking sparkling being held by his Carrier. "What do you want to call him?" the medic asked.

Normally, the Breeders were not able to name their sparklings before the young ones were taken away from them, sometimes barely a breem after their birth. With another smile on her lip components, Starflight looked down at her tiny mechling. "He reminds me of small creatures I've heard about," she said. "They thrive on another planet. His coloring matches that creature." She waited a few astroseconds to properly remember the name of the black-and-yellow species her son reminded her of. "Bumblebee," she finally said. "Your designation will be Bumblebee."

_**12345678987654321**_

Many of the Breeders were envious of Starflight. She was able to keep this one child while most of them were unable to convince any medic, soldier, or Creator to let them keep their own. Yet while they were jealous of the slim femme that was soon impregnated again a few solar cycles later, they all adored the small mechling and tried to keep him oblivious of the way their lives were.

Starflight admitted to few of her friends that Bumblebee was also a Breeder, but no one else knew. Not even her medic. So many of the Breeders tried to keep him safe.

Bumblebee, loved by many of the Breeders and treated as though he was a son to all of them, lived a somewhat happy sparkling-hood. The only time he was truly separated from his Carrier was when mechs came to see her and he was taken in by someone else for the time being. He often saw his Carrier with a swell in her abdomen, asked about it, and was always told the same thing. A baby sibling that he would never know because of cruel mechs taking them away. He saw how much it hurt his Carrier and did everything in his little power to cheer her up and make her happy. His efforts were never in vain.

He was about twenty stellar cycles in age when a tragedy struck his young life. Carrier was hurting with this one sibling of his. Her once bright yellow paint was faded and she rarely wanted to move. When she did, it was generally only to get them both some energon and she was always so worn out after the short journey. Her medic could not find out what was wrong, and for once in his short life, Bumblebee was truly scared.

Though playful all the time and seemingly never to learn from his adventures to places he shouldn't go, Bumblebee was not a dim-witted sparkling. He knew that if anything happened to his Carrier, he would have no one. True the other Breeders would try to fight for him, try to keep him with them for his own protection, but he knew that once his Carrier was gone, he would be taken. He wasn't sure as to where, but that wasn't what worried him or scared him the most.

What scared him the most was the very idea of his Carrier no longer being there.

"Ama," he clicked to her, ignoring the medics running around the room to try and save her spark from extinguishing.

Starflight tilted her head to look at him with low-lit optics and smiled gently at him. "My little Bumblebee," she whispered, holding out her servo to her son. He scampered over and held her hand before she picked him up and laid him on her chassis. Some would consider it a torture to allow a sparkling to listen to their Carrier's spark fade, but to them, it wasn't. They were offering one last bit of comfort before their joined the Well. "You must promise me that no mater what, you will stay strong for me, my sweetspark. You will end up facing many things that you may not want to, my Bee, but you must remain strong. Promise me?"

Bumblebee listened as her spark slowly beat within his Carriers chassis. The pulses that showed she was still online were getting slower and slower. "I promise," he trilled at her before her spark gave one last pulse and her frame turned completely gray.

_**12345678987654321**_

A yellow pede kicked at the ground, the owner of the pede in deep thought from thee previous few orns. Five orns ago, he finally interfaced with the mech he had been crushing on since he started at the Academy. Silvershot was a handsome mech, taller than Bee by a few feet, armor a shining silver with soft blue accents. Then three orns ago, he felt that new spark in his chassis that he knew he had to keep secret or he would be turned into what his Carrier was. Not even Silvershot was supposed to know about the new spark. Barely a few cycles ago, he got kicked out of the Academy because he was covering his friend, who was also kicked out.

"Sentinel is such an aft," Bumblebee growled under his breath.

"You didn't have to do that, little buddy," his friend, a large green mech named Bulkhead, told him. Bulkhead was one of the few that was created the old fashion way, a medic and a protoform and a Creator asking for a small bit of their spark to be put into the shell.

"Yeah I did," Bumblebee assured him. "We're best buds!"

"But you and Silvershot," Bulkhead started.

Bumblebee sighed. "Would have ended up separated eventually," Bumblebee stated with a wave of his hand.

"You don't mean that…"

Bumblebee nodded. Bulkhead, though ignored at first, became his best friend and he trusted the larger Autobot with his most well-guarded secret. He remembered his Carrier telling him that unless he trusted someone with his very spark, he was not to tell anyone about what he was. Bulkhead has proved that he could be trusted. He hadn't said a word about Bumblebee's secret.

"What are you going to do?" Bulkhead asked.

"I don't know," Bumblebee sighed. "Guess leave it in a stasis, throw it into space, and hope that whoever finds it will treat it well and it'll be happy. It's all I can hope for. I can't keep it."

Bulkhead understood that. He may not be the brightest of mechs but he did understand what Bumblebee was saying. "So what do we do for now?" he asked.

"I don't know right now, Bulky," Bumblebee answered, shaking his head. "Once this is taken care of," he tapped his chassis, "we can start from the bottom and work our way up. Who knows, maybe in a few vorns, Big-Chinned Sentinel may get replaced at the Academy and we can try again!"

"I hope so," Bulkhead chuckled, rubbing the back of his helm.

"But for now, I know someone we can stay with for a while," the yellow mech said, grabbing Bulkhead's arm before dragging him off.

_**12345678987654321**_

A femme. Tiny and silver. He almost didn't have the spark to leave her in the hands of strangers. That is, if any found her. Before placing her into a stasis, he made her a small promise. "When everything is right, I will find you and then we can be an actual family." With that said, he planted a small kiss to the sparkling's forehead then placed her into a stasis pod and sent her away, hoping that wherever she would end up, she would be safe and happy.

Neither of the two mechs said as thing as they watched the small pod disappear into the stars. The larger finally walked up to the smaller yellow mech and placed a servo on his shoulder. "Everything will be right eventually," Bulkhead reassured his friend best he could. "You'll see her again, and I bet she would be really happy."

"I hope so, Bulkhead," Bumblebee said, rubbing his upper arm. Is this what his Carrier felt like every time one of her children, his siblings, were taken away? No, she suffered worse than he currently felt. Hers were taken by force and he chose to send his daughter away.

His optics glowed darkly. Cybertron was rotten. Something needed to be done to end all this.

**I actually plan on a couple of Transformers Animated characters having dark past or something. Thus, Part One-One is Bumblebee, born from a Breeder, is a Breeder, and gave up his daughter for both of their safety. What's his goal, though? I didn't exactly make it clear as to what he wants, though it should be pretty obvious. And no, the sparkling isn't it.**

**Next chapter will be another character, but just to be clear on things, what happens next chapter will either be before Bumblebee is born or while he's growing up. Not after all this. Just making that clear.**

**Anyway, hope people like the way I'm starting this out and please do review! Flames will be ignored and –if I can find out how- deleted.**


	2. Part 1 Ch 2

**Well that was better than I expected. Glad you all like it. As for what I have planned for Bumblebee, you will have to wait until Part Two. For now, we're still on Part One, which is just bringing in a few Breeders and explaining their history.**

**Disclaimer: Starflight and Blazetrack are mine, no one else. Transformers does not belong to me.**

_**12345678987654321 Part One-Two 12345678987654321**_

He was meant to be a warrior, a fighter. To follow his leader into battle and offline in battle, to die a warrior's death. A war hero's death. Not get drunk, sleep with one of his comrades, then find out he was a Breeder and hide his own sparkling from everyone.

Many thought that he was either AWOL or captured by the enemy forces during the few months that he disappeared. All he did was realize that he was starting to show and volunteered to go on a scouting mission, then vanished from his comrades and allowed them to believe what they will. He wasn't sure of what he was going to do with the sparkling once it was born.

At first, he planned on getting rid of it, but when he held the small mechling in his black servos, cradled in his deep red arms while the tiny blue mechling listened to his spark pulse through his orange chassis, he just couldn't. He curled his body around the new life he birthed and rested that way, hiding his new son from anybot that would try to take them both away if they saw him.

For a few months, his little mechling remained hidden. He fed his story of capture and escape to his comrades, his injuries that he gained before heading back only making the story more believable, and his little mechling hidden away in a spare chamber by his spark. The little one seemed to love listening to his spark pulse. So long as it kept the sparkling calm, he wasn't complaining about carrying him around in that chamber.

Though when it came to battles…

"Blazetrack! Behind you!" one of his comrades yelled out. Blazetrack sharply turned, seeing a large Decepticon about to hit him. He skillfully dodged and used his unique speed to run circles around the Con, striking at any exposed wiring. The Con fell to the ground with a thud once he hit and severed one of the main energon lines in both legs and at the base of the neck.

"Thanks for the heads up!" he called back before finally noticing something behind his companion. A tiny blue mechling crawling out from behind a pile of rubble. Curious blue optics scanned all over the battlefield, watching as mechs tore into each other, some falling while the victor ran to fight their next target.

No one seemed to notice the sparkling, other than himself. Before anyone could, he ran forth and grabbed his son, holding him close to his chest and tried to find a new hiding place for his little one. Every battle, Blazetrack always found a place to hide his son from not only the Cons, but his own faction as well.

"Blurr!" Blazetrack snapped at his mechling once he stopped running. "When I say 'stay put', I mean stay where I put you!"

The mechling only blinked bright optics up at his Carrier before smiling at him. Unfortunately for Blazetrack, Blurr was born without the works 'stay put', or any words that has to do with being still, in his vocabulary.

"Be glad that I can't hurt you," Blazetrack sighed.

_**12345678987654321**_

Blurr was a highly hyperactive sparkling, only calm and still when he was in the chamber by his Carrier's spark, which Blazetrack was thankful for. He did try to get some 'alone' time, or even when he was sent on solo scouting missions, so he could let Blurr work off his extra energy without anyone seeing him. So far, everything worked in his favor. He could bond with his son, no one would see him, he was getting his job done, and Blurr was working off a lot of energy.

True the sparkling wasn't that fast yet, but he was showing signs of inheriting Blazetrack's speed. Which generally led to Blazetrack being unable to take his optics off his sparkling for even a few astroseconds before the little one disappeared.

"Blurr!" Blazetrack called out, looking around every corner and down every alley, hoping to find his sparkling before someone else did. "Blurr! Remember the words 'stay put'? Remind me to just keep you in that chamber…" A clatter echoed through an alleyway ahead of him. "Blurr?"

A deep chuckle along with the sound of heavy pedes walking. A large, bulky figure stepped out, glowing red eyes staring directly at Blazetrack and a feral grin showing off pointed denta. "Well, well, well," the Con chuckled. "I come out here looking for some spare parts, and I find a lone Auto-slag mech. Perfect."

Blazetrack quickly got into a defensive stance, taking a couple steps back for every one the Con took forth. His optics scanning all over the Con, looking for weak points, but he was unable to locate any. Every part of this Con was covered with black and gray armor, except for the face. The Cons claws flexed before tips tapped each other menacingly then the Con lunged.

Quickly, Blazetrack dodged and kicked out to strike the Con's side, only for the enemy to grab his leg and throw him into a building. "So predictable," the Con taunted, stalking towards his target.

Blazetrack managed to get up, but just from the grab, his leg was injured. He wasn't able to move at full speed during this. Slag it all…

Elsewhere, little Blurr was inspecting a broken piece of metal, dulled edges yet so shiny. He stuck it in his mouth and chewed on it with his tiny denta. This didn't taste very good. He pulled it out of his mouth and threw it away before crawling off to find something else. He crawled out of the abandoned building only for something large to go sailing over his helm. Blinking his large optics curiously, Blurr turned his head to see his Carrier.

At first, he was happy and smiled. He lost track of his Carrier a while back and wanted to try to tell him everything, then he saw the shape his Carrier was in. He was injured everywhere. Pink fluids poured out of every injury. One of his legs was gone from the knee down, making him unable to stand. One of his arms was mangled, hanging onto his shoulder by a few wires. Some of his plating was torn up or missing. It was a scary sight to Blurr.

One of Carrier's optics was destroyed, but the other still functioned enough for him to be spotted. "Blurr," he rasped out. "Run."

Blurr didn't understand and shook his head then heard someone walking behind him. He turned his little head and looked up and up and up. He almost fell over looking up at this giant mech behind him. Red optics stared down at him, slightly narrowed like the mech didn't know what to think of him. The mech held out a hand and started to reach for Blurr.

"Don't you touch him, filthy Con!" Blazetrack yelled out, managing to push himself up and throw himself into the Con, knocking him down. "Blurr! Go! Run!"

Little Blurr didn't know what to do other than what his Carrier told him to do. So he crawled away as fast as he could, ignoring the sounds of his Carrier fighting the larger mech, and hid away in a crack in the wall that was just big enough for him to hide in. He went as far back into the crack as he could then curled up into a ball and stayed there, shaking.

The sounds of fighting eventually stopped. Steps were heading his way before he saw a pair of pedes walk right by his hiding place. The steps echoed, bouncing off the walls softly before fading away and then silence reigned.

Hesitantly, Blurr crawled out of his hidey hole and looked around. A low metallic whine made its way to his audio receptors. Still shaking, Blurr made his way to the sound only to see something no sparkling should ever see. His Carrier was even more badly damaged. The only way he was really able to recognize him was from the colors of the mangled frame, colors which were slowly fading to gray.

With a cry, Blurr went to his Carrier and curled into his side. Weakly, Blazetrack lifted a torn hand and gently rubbed Blurr's back. He wasn't able to speak. He was in too much pain and his vocalizer was crushed. This small action was enough. Blurr cried into his Carrier's side, letting out mournful keens and clicking. The rubbing stopped and the hand fell. The frame turned completely gray. Blurr cried out a scream.

_**12345678987654321**_

"Easy there, little guy," someone softly spoke to him as he was picked up, startling him out of recharge. He struggled against the hands holding him, not wanting to be touched by anyone. "Hey, hey, hey. Quit that before I drop you." The voice was soothing and he stopped his struggling. Unfocused optics that were still trying to come back online managed to see many Autobots around the frame of his Carrier, a few of them even looked at Blurr himself.

"Why was that sparkling with him?" someone asked.

"Don't know," the stranger holding him answered. "Either Blazetrack's been keeping a secret from us or he found this little guy and was protecting him."

Blurr looked at the one holding him, seeing flashing head fins and a mask covering the stranger's face. Whenever he said a word, his fins flashed again. They fascinated Blurr. He reached to grab them while the mech was talking.

"Sir," one of the other mechs called before handing something he found to the mech holding Blurr.

The mech hummed, his fins lighting up briefly. His optics scanned over the item handed to him. "So your name's Blurr, little guy?" he asked, looking down at the small, blue mechling. "Well, I guess its safe to say that Blazetrack was a Breeder, got sparked up, and tried to hide it."

"Why, though?" one of the others asked.

"Not all Breeders are treated right and he was probably scared of that life, as well as losing Blurr," the mech answered. "Now what to do with you, little Blurr…" He finally noticing the tiny one trying to grab his fins. "Oh, you like my heads fins, huh?"

"Wheeljack," someone spoke. "We should have that sparkling looked over, just to make sure it's healthy. Blazetrack knows basics, but I don't think he's had that little one looked over properly."

"Yeah, yeah," Wheeljack sighed. "Alright, Smokey. Lets head back to base, let Aid take a look over him. We'll figure out what to do from there."

_**12345678987654321**_

"With this speed matrix, your already quick speed will increase until you are nothing but your name suggests," Perceptor informed him, holding a chip in his hand as he approached the fully-grown blue mech. "You will go from a sudden stop to full speed within astroseconds and be able to stop on a microchip."

"Well-that's-very-reassuring-since-that-would-most-likely-mean-that-I-will-stop-running-into-walls," Blurr quickly said.

"If you had better control over your speed, you wouldn't run into walls," Wheeljack pointed out cheerfully. "Should have trained a little better."

"No matter," Perceptor interjected. "This will solve that problem so we can stop finding Blurr imprints in the walls."

"…Did-Perceptor-just-make-a-joke?-I've-never-heard-him-make-a-joke.-I-always-thought-he-just-had-a-dry-sense-of-humor,-but-it-looks-like-I'm-wrong."

"Blurr, Percy does have his moments," Wheeljack chuckled. "Calm down."

"Stay still, Blurr," Perceptor ordered as he placed the speed matrix. "Hopefully, this matrix will not only help you control your speed, but also help with the way you speak."

"There's-nothing-wrong-with-how-I-talk!" Blurr argued.

"Blurr, the only reason so few understand you is because you actually stayed still long enough for them to get used to your fast talk," Wheeljack pointed out. Blurr pouted. "But that's just how you are. Nothing to be ashamed of. So, Percy, lay off him a little bit."

"I was not saying he is impossible to understand," Perceptor stated. "I was merely stating that many newcomers may have a hard time understanding him, so he should slow down his speech."

"When-am-I-ever-here-long-enough-to-actually-meet-some-newcomers?-I-do-get-quite-busy-gathering-intel-after-all."

"And we all know it," Perceptor agreed, nodding his head once he speed matrix was in place. "Now to test it," he said, replacing the armor he removed in order to add the new matrix. "Blurr, run around the room as fast as you can, and stop before you hit a wall."

"Primus,-three-times-and-no-one-lets-it-go!" Blurr complained as he got to his pedes.

"It should not have occurred three times," Perceptor pointed out before the blue mech was off. Nothing but a blue blur was seen as he circled the room.

"He definitely has Blazetrack's speed, doesn't he?" Wheeljack commented.

"Blazetrack could only hope to be as fast as Blurr is," Perceptor replied. When it looked like Blurr was about to crash into a wall (again), he skidded to a stop inches away from it. "Very good. It appears that the matrix has already integrated with your systems and programming rather well and adjusting those programs appropriately. How do you feel, Blurr?"

Blurr was silent for a moment, surprisingly, then it was like a dam broke. "I-feel-a-slight-buzz-through-my-systems,-which-is-most-likely-just-the-matrix-doing-as-you-said-it-would.-Other-than-that,-my-legs-feel-like-they-are-burning-up,-perhaps-too-much-speed-at-once?-I-also-feel-a-small-rush-through-my-processor."

"I think we got the point, Blurr," Wheeljack interrupted before the blue mech went into further detail.

"We will probably have to reconfigure your programming just a bit so that your legs will release more lubricant into your gears in order to prevent them from overheating and/or locking up," Perceptor said as Blurr headed back to the berth he vacated not three seconds ago. "I would hate for you to be dragged in here every orbital cycle because of one forgotten detail."

"I-would-hate-to-be-dragged-in-here-without-being-able-to-use-my-legs," Blurr said, crossing his arms over his chassis.

"Ah, there you are," someone called out. The three mechs turned their heads to see who their visitor is.

Blurr automatically jumped to his feet and saluted. "Ultra-Magnus,-sir!"

"At ease, Agent Blurr," Ultra Magnus said. The mech behind him seemed amused that Blurr saluted when the other two nodded at the Magnus in greeting. Blurr dropped his salute then was pushed back onto the berth by Perceptor. "He didn't run into a wall again, did he?"

"Three-times-and-no-one-lets-it-go!-You-see,-Wheeljack?-I-am-forever-going-to-be-teased-about-this-and-if-this-keeps-on-circulating,-then-no-one-will-take-me-seriously!"

"Stay still, Blurr," Perceptor ordered. "And no, Ultra Magnus. I have installed a speed matrix into Blurr's processor, which should help him control his speed. I thought it would also control his talking so he wouldn't confuse any newcomers. Also, Blurr, you mentioned the walls first."

"Speaking of newcomers," Ultra Magnus said, motioning the Bot behind him to step forward. "Agent Blurr, this is Longarm Prime, your new commander."

_**12345678987654321**_

High Grade was never a good thing. Many would argue with him, but not many were in his situation. Then again, this shouldn't have been that much of a surprise to him.

Figured the twins would have a party to celebrate a victory, but to bring only high grade? He should write them up for this. Or better yet, ban high grade. Then again, that may not be the best of ideas. He could only imagine the rebellion against him just because of high grade.

At first, the party seemed like a good idea. The war had too many uptight and everyone needs moments to relax. Unfortunately, he isn't just the fastest mech on or off Cybertron. He is also, as it turns out, a light weight. High grade and Blurr were never meant to mix. Yet someone managed to create this mix and spike his 'regular' energon with high grade. All he could remember was running around, flirting with someone, and waking up next to Longarm on Longarm's berth. Needless to say, awkward morning.

And Blurr was very determined to avoid his commanding officer for as long as he could.

"Agent Blurr," someone called to him.

"Slag-it-all!" he harshly whispered to himself, spinning on the spot and saluting the very mech he was trying his best to avoid. "Longarm-Prime-sir!"

"At ease," Longarm chuckled, waving a hand slightly. "You've been avoiding me lately."

Blurr looked downward. "Well…" he trailed off. "I'm-sorry,-sir.-I-should-have-spoken-to-you-about-what-happened-at-that-party,-but-I-was-too-embarrassed-and-I'm-sure-you-have-other-things-to-do-other-than-listening-to-me-go-on-and-on.-It-happened.-It's-history.-I-should-just-forget-about-it.-But-the-problem-is-I-can't-and-its-all-I-think-about-and-it's-driving-me-absolutely-insane!"

"Agent Blurr, calm down," Longarm chuckled, placing a hand on Blurr's shoulder. "Now from what I managed to pick up from all that was that you are thinking about what happened at that party. Do we need to talk?"

Blurr slowly shook his head before nodding.

"Then let's go to my office and… talk," Longarm suggested. Blurr didn't notice the slight pause.

**Because I just have to have that pairing. I just love it! ^^ Anyway, there's a Blurr chapter, next will be another Bumblebee chapter, just to see what he was doing before being a repair bot or how he got there, in my opinion. And then just work my way to a good spot for the story to continue onto Part Two.**

**For now, please do review and let me know what you think! ^^**


	3. Part 1 Ch 3

Ok, I lied. This is not gonna be another Bumblebee chapter. I was planning that at first, then planning a chapter that would be a combo of Blurr and Bumblebee at different points in their lives, but then I got another idea. Swindle. I just have to add him n all this fun!

**You can guess all you want on what I am going to do with him. I ain't telling… but I may hint.**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews and enjoy the chapter! ^^**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers …of any sort. I own Starflight, Blazetrack, and now I own Swindle's Carrier, Darkshot. **

12345678987564321 Part One-Three 12345678987564321

He was never happy to admit it. His sparkling-hood wasn't all that grand. He was barely hidden away and had to learn many things on his own. He eventually grew proud of his achievements and his skills. He wasn't much of a warrior, but he did have enough weapons to make anyone jealous, even if he barely understood them. He knew how to aim and shoot, and that was all he needed.

He could remember when he was still young, barely into his youngling years, the war finally reached his Carrier and him. In order for them to have a semi-peaceful life, his Carrier became something he never wanted to admit he came from. At first, she was a scout, an Autobot scout. Then she was found, captured, tortured in many ways possible, then finally fled to someplace where she could live in peace… until she found out she was carrying.

Swindle barely received any love from his Carrier, and in turn, never gave her any. She did have moments where she showed she did care for his well-being, but then went right back to being her cold-sparked self that called her own son an unwanted Decepticon spawn. The insults eventually just flew over his head as he grew older and used to the way she treated him. When he was younger, he tried to earn some form of love or affection from his Carrier, and his spark slowly became stone every time she rejected him.

Then the war reached them and he was barely out of his sparkling years. His Carrier became nothing more than a… he shuddered even thinking about her reducing herself to that. Some Autobot she was… If he was given the option, he would have chosen offlining. No one was going to make him their whore.

"You know, I'm sure any Autobot would rather offline than do what you're doing," Swindle commented.

"One must do what they can to survive and fight another day," Darkshot, his Carrier, commented.

She used to have such a shine, she could make any femme or vain mech jealous. He remembered the way her armor could even be used as a mirror at times, she usually kept it so clean and polished. But now, the dark blue armor was dirty and faded. Her silver chassis scratched with multiple lines of paint, most of it from her own black servos. She was not looking forward to carrying another from a Con, and some have forced her chassis open.

"And what exactly are you going to do with this situation?" Swindle chuckled, crossing his arms over his own chassis and leaning against the wall.

"Like I would tell you," she spat. "You're the spawn of a Con. For all I know, if I tell you whatever I manage to plan, you could very well go and tell them."

"Only for the right price," Swindle replied with a smirk and a wave of his servo.

"Tch, everything comes with a price, as far as you care," Darkshot growled to him.

"Hey, how do you think I managed to bring any credits home?" he asked. "Unlike you, I actually worked hard. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to steal something, figure out a good price for it, then cut deals with others? I don't think you do. Everything does come with a price. I just exploit that little fact of life."

Darkshot scoffed again. "You're too young to get into such a dangerous business," she pointed out.

"Oh, now you care," Swindle said with a shake of his helm. "The way I see it, I can make a lot of friends in this business, not to mention a lot of credits. I already got quite a few deals done here. Now, excuse me. I do have other things to do other than speak with my Carrier who turned herself into a pleasure model."

Darkshot grabbed whatever was closest to her and threw it at her son's helm. How dare he!

He just ducked and the object hit the wall. He didn't bother checking to see what it was or even to see if it was still functioning. With a smirk on his lip components, he sauntered out of the room, but paused at the doorway. "You know, you always call me a Con Spawn," he pointed out. "You certainly don't have any… motherly affections to me. I might as well just join the Decepticons. After all, I highly doubt any Autobot would let a hybrid like me collaborate with them."

"Don't you dare," Darkshot hissed through her vents. "Don't you dare shame me and take the Decepticon insignia!"

"Once again, all about you," Swindle sighed before closing the door once he was out of the way. He spotted a Decepticon heading his way then smirked. "Excuse me, but can I just borrow a moment of your time?"

"Whatever you're selling, youngling, not interested," the large, intimidating mech scoffed.

"Oh, no, I'm not selling anything," Swindle reassured, inwardly please that he was quickly becoming known on the ship. "…Yet. Anyway, I just wanna know something. Who do I go to in order to get that nice insignia on your chassis?"

_**12345678987654321**_

"Hurt, but worth it," Swindle commented, rubbing his chest plates as he wondered around the cargo hold. "Now, what all do we have in here? Oh, that's nice."

"What are you doing in here, youngling?" someone asked.

Swindle didn't even jumped, only smoothly turned around to see a larger mech with wings. "Ah, a Seeker," he noted. "Very nice wings you have, I have to admit. Impressive wingspan and they look so well taken care of. I know you Seekers view your wings as you most valuable asset, but my, my. I can definitely see someone cares about them more so than others."

"As much as I appreciate your flattery, you have not answered the question," the Seeker pointed out, his arms crossing over his cockpit.

"My apologies," Swindle chuckled. "Designation Swindle. Newly appointed Decepticon. I was just looking through the cargo to make sure there weren't any damaged goods. After all, if something's damaged, it won't work properly. And sometimes, the damage isn't seeing outwardly. You have to make sure the merchandise is functioning properly before sale or use."

"True," the Seeker agreed before humming lowly. "You are quite young."

"Of course," Swindle shrugged with a slow shake of his head. "You just caught me and Darkshot not too long ago. I've only been out of my sparkling form for a few vorns. I may be young, but I'm old enough to know what I'm doing."

"Oh really," the Seeker seemed to sneer. "Then prove it."

"Of course. But if I may be so bold to ask, what is your designation?"

A chuckle. "Starscream," he answered. "I am Megatron's Second in Command and you will treat me with proper respect."

"The whole commenting of your wings wasn't respectful enough?" Swindle cheekily asked.

"It was, but that wasn't."

_**12345678987654321**_

He just couldn't understand it. Darkshot has been, still is, and always will be an Autobot. Yet no Con had decided she was worth offlining. Even Megatron!

The Decepticon Warlord rarely did visit other ships. Mostly to make sure they were in proper order or to make sure Starscream's little reports were accurate. The Seeker seemed insulted that Megatron didn't take his reports seriously.

"Lord Megatron," Swindle called to the mech. Megatron turned his head to him and narrowed his optics. "I just want to ask a quick question. About Darkshot."

"What is it?" Megatron pressed in annoyance.

"I'm just curious as to why you're keeping her online," Swindle stated. "I mean, she's still an Autobot, whether she's been in hiding or not. Isn't it more of a risk to keep her online than to just go ahead and deactivate her?"

Megatron fully tuned to the youngling that was in the middle of his teenage years. "You're still young," he stated. "You wouldn't understand."

"I understand that you've killed many mechs and femmes, yet no one, not even you, will offline this one femme," the youngling explained as calmly as he could. He felt as though he should be grateful that his Carrier was being spared, but then he just didn't care. She never showed him any love, so why should he care if she's online or deactivated?

"You seem very adamant about this," Megatron noted, fully turning to study the youngling a little further. "You do realize that femme is your Carrier, do you not?"

"Is that what this is all about?" Swindle laughed lightly. "Lord Megatron –can I just call you Megatron? - the way I see it is that she's an Autobot scout. Always has been. Always will be. She'll find out some information about this ship, manage to escape, and then give that information to other Autobots. The way I see it, deactivating her will save us a lot of grief."

"You seem so sure that she will escape," the Decepticon leader pointed out, grinning to show his denta. "Is there something I need to know, youngling?"

"Oh, no," Swindle answered with a wave of his hand. "She won't tell me anything. She never trusted me. Probably because my Creator is a Decepticon and I was sort of… forced onto her spark. I don't know the whole story, but all I know is that she won't tell me anything. And even if she did, I would of course, inform you right away, Megatron."

Megatron chuckled darkly. "Young Swindle, I do not think you fully understand what your Carrier is to us," he stated. "We Decepticons do try to keep the Breeders locked away and safe. Unlike the Autobots that would rape them continuously, we try not to harm one if we know what they are. Darkshot was not known as a Breeder before her capture, so my men did not know. She would have remained untouched. Of course, she should have been since she is a femme. I do not like it when my men act like common mongrels, especially when it comes to femmes."

"Not a supporter, I get it," Swindle chuckled. "And just an FYI, she still is kind of forced on now. Still, I think it would be better if she was gone. Her memory could be wiped so she would have no recollection of what she has seen or heard or managed to pull from anyone who visits her. Then dump her somewhere to fend for herself. Either that, or deactivation."

"You obviously do not listen," Megatron growled before smirking. "Very well. If you are so keen on her deactivation, then you can put a gun to her helm and blow her processor out."

Swindle smirked back at him. "With all due respect, Megatron, if that was your way of getting me to stand down from this subject, it won't work," he pointed out. "Whether I do it myself or someone else does, there will be no love lost between Darkshot and I."

_**12345678987654321**_

A lot of the Decepticons would have called it family drama. He held the blaster to her helm. She begged for her life, trying to make it sound like she was a good mother. Yet all he did was smirk and say, "When have you ever wanted the unwanted Decepticon spawn?" Then he pulled the trigger and her processor was blown to bits. Despite Megatron seeming to disapprove of Breeders being used or killed, he seemed quite happy with the way Swindle killed her. Shortly after, Swindle asked his leader if he could roam to universe by himself.

"And why should I allow that?" Megatron asked him.

"Think of it this way," Swindle started, going into his selling mode. "This is a very large universe. There's bound to be other planets with life that have things we probably never thought of or are unable to make. I can roam around the universe and gather these items, all for the Decepticon cause, of course. Imagine. All these inferior life forms, or maybe superior (depending), could have weapons that could prove so useful to us. Of course, I'll save all the best for you, Megatron."

Megatron seemed to think over it for barely a breem before smirking and allowing him to do what he wanted.

_**12345678987654231**_

"What a mech," Swindle found himself saying as he stared at the larger mech that just took down one of the best Autobots there was, as far as Swindle was aware.

Said mech was black and green, a hook for a right servo on a black with gold arm, his other arm a maroon color with black strips and a gray servo. There were spikes on his shoulders, two on each, and one spike on each side of his hips. His face was white with unusual black markings and his optics red. What caught Swindles attention was that this mech had no insignia.

"What are you looking at, kid?" the mech gruffly asked him. "You after this guy, no dice. I got a client waiting and credits to get."

"Oh, so you're a bounty hunter!" Swindle quickly concluded. "No worries, my friend. I am not at all interested in taking your bounty. Who would ever believe someone as small as me with barely any fighting skills managed to take that guy down, not to mention all these others?" Then an idea struck him. "Say! You're a really good bounty hunter, right?"

"Yeah," the mech stated, slinging his bounty over his shoulder and walking off.

Swindle quickly caught up. "Good, see, here's the thing," he stated. "I think I got quite a few things that you may be interested in. Weapon upgrades. Mods."

"And I suppose you will just hand it over for nothing," the mech grunted.

"Oh no, my friend," he answered. "See, that just isn't the way things work. Everything comes with a price. By the way, may I ask what your designation happens to be?"

"Lockdown," the bounty hunter answered.

"Pleasure, Lockdown," the purple and tan mech happily said. "The designation's Swindle. Want anything, name it."

"No, you name it," Lockdown challenged him.

Swindle just laughed. "Lockdown, something tells me you'll be one of my favorite customers!"

_****_

Thus Swindle's story… sort of. I don't know why, but I just thoughts of this whole thing and for some reason, it would not leave my mind. I like the whole Swindle meets Lockdown scene, seeing as that is a pairing I like. But I just have no clue as to how I should feel about Swindle killing his own mother.

Oh well. Review, please! If anyone has any suggestions for who else I could turn into a Breeder, let me know and I will write something about them. If you have an idea for their story, let me know that, too, and I'll see what I can do.


	4. Part 2 Ch 1

**And now what everyone's been waiting for! Part Two! ^^ Now we get on with the story! Yayness!**

**Anyway, let's get onto business. And FYI, I'm screwing around with things. You'll see what I mean…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers of any kind.**

**12345678987654321 Part Two-One 12345678987654321**

Optimus sighed heavily, shaking his head side to side slowly. They weren't the only Space Bridge Repair Crew in the galaxy, but orders were orders. The problem was that Decepticons had set up base on Earth and they couldn't all just leave at once. So he was stuck on the decision about who to leave behind.

Well, there could always be Prowl. He loved the organic planet and would probably appreciate some peace and quiet for his meditation or continue his training in peace. Only problem to that was that if he was too deep in meditation, he probably would not notice alarms blaring.

Bulkhead has to come, hands down. With his 'Space Bridge Expertise', Optimus couldn't risk leaving him behind. If there was problem with the space bridge, Bulkhead could figure out the problem and fix it.

Ratchet was another one that has to come along. If anyone got hurt, they would need Ratchet for their own repairs. Sure he's been having little moments where he felt useless because of the Allspark Key, but since that wasn't working since Sari's upgrade, he's been getting better.

Optimus himself had to go. He was the Commander of the ship and the team. If he didn't go, who knows what would happen?

Sari, though upgraded now, probably could handle things. Though she still wasn't used to all her upgrades and weapons. If Prowl was going to come along, Sari needed to as well just so he could keep teaching her how to control her new weapons and such. And she needed to continue being trained.

Bumblebee tried, but either he was afraid of being stabbed close to his spark again or Sari was afraid of hurting him. She had only hurt him, no one else. She acted as though she was afraid to be around him in case she ever lost control like that again.

So he was stuck on two bots. Leave Prowl or leave Bumblebee? There were so many pros and cons with both of them. Bumblebee was a good space bridge technician, enthusiastic about anything and everything, unless he deemed it boring. Yet the younger bot was just a little too enthusiastic. He got bored too easily and sometimes acted out on that boredom, thus messing something up and making things last longer than they should.

With a sigh, he came to his decision. Bumblebee may like it. He may not. He could only hope that the smaller bot wouldn't act too irrational about it.

_**Later**_

"Now we should only be gone for a month, month and a half at most," Optimus told Bumblebee for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I know already," Bumblebee sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chassis. "If anything happens and I can't handle it, I comm you guys and you'll be back as fast as you possibly can. Keep an eye on the monitors. Watch out for any and all Decepticons. Make sure to do my patrols around the city. I get it already! Come on, boss-bot, cut me some slack. I can handle things."

"I'm just making sure you remember everything," Optimus placated. "Hopefully, this won't take too long and nothing will happen while we're gone. This is important, Bumblebee. We trusting you to keep the city safe while we're away."

"Relax, boss-bot," the yellow mech said with a wave of his hand. "I got everything under control. Trust me. The city will still be standing by the time you get back."

"Optimus, we gotta go before Sentinel blows a gasket," Ratchet called out.

Optimus sighed with a shake of his head. He knew how bad Sentinel could get at times. It was better not to push the arrogant bot any further than they normally do. He didn't need to give that pain in the aft another thing to rant about concerning him and his team.

"Alright," he called back. "Just call us if anything gets to be too much for you."

"Sure thing!" Bumblebee assured him with a pat on the arm. "Get going. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get back. And quit worrying about the city already." He wanted to add 'I'm not that much of a screw up', knowing that was why Optimus chose to leave him instead of Prowl.

The big bot didn't want Bumblebee messing anything up and making things last longer. He knew what they thought of him. Bulkhead was innocent of those thoughts, but he knew the others thought the same thing. Even Sari seemed to think that about him lately. She wouldn't come near him… and it hurt. Sure she stabbed him, but he didn't blame her for it. He knew she didn't have control over her new upgrades, yet she seemed too scared to come near him. And that broke his spark worse than anything he ever experienced, including sending his own new-sparked daughter away. For their safety, yes, but still.

"Alright, then we're leaving," Optimus said, turning around and walking off.

"Be careful, little buddy," Bulkhead spoke from Bumblebee's right, placing a servo on the smaller mech's shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze.

"You, too, Bulky," Bumblebee responded, squeezing Bulkhead's large servo with his own before looking over to Sari. "See ya, Sari."

"Yeah," she said lowly. "See ya soon. Make sure to keep my dad out of trouble."

Bumblebee chuckled. "I'll try my best," he stated. She barely smiled at him before running off to join the others. Prowl gave him a nod of his head then left, Bulkhead following after him.

"Now, kid, you better actually call if there are _any_ problems," Ratchet warned him. Bumblebee knew it was out of concern. He smirked and nodded his affirmative to the older mech then Ratchet left to load onto the ship. Within minutes, Bumblebee had the base to himself.

_**12345678987654321**_

"I know I can't catch you," Shockwave said as he turned to the terminal. "But I can trap you." He watched as the blue signature on the screen ran down the halls, Shockwave triggering the traps that would close the hallways. As he watched Blurr get trapped on the screen before the walls slowly pressed towards him, Shockwave reached into his subspace. "Might as well now."

Before Blurr left for his mission on Earth, he gave Longarm a datapad, telling him that he could read it in the case that he deactivated. Well, he was about to now and Shockwave was curious. The screen flickered on and his optic scanned over the contents. His systems almost froze from what he read. "Can't be!" he exclaimed before focusing back on the trap and quickly stopping it.

Between the two walls, Blurr trembled. They stopped. Why did they stop? He wasn't complaining or anything, but he was so sure Longarm would kill him. Only, he wasn't really Longarm, was he? Blurr didn't know what to think. Too many thoughts jumbled up his processor.

The walls started to move again and Blurr started to panic, until he noticed the walls were pulling away from him and not intent on crushing his frame. Again, he wasn't complaining. But he was confused. The walls stopped moving once they were a good fifteen feet away from him. One rose and Shockwave stepped under it. Blurr watched helplessly as the wall slammed down behind the Con. Blurr had to admit he is fast and proud of his speed, but he isn't that fast.

"Orders can be so confusing when they conflict," Shockwave commented. "Should I offline you so that I may remain undiscovered? Or shall I let you live for the tiny being developing within your chassis?"

Instinctively, Blurr's hand flew to his blue chassis plating. He could almost feel the fear coming from the tiny new spark that is attached to his own spark. He had to admit he never did expect himself to be a Breeder. His Carrier, as far as he was aware, never had any other sparklings, making Blurr an only child. What were the chances of the first and only new spark being a Breeder? Blurr never thought about it.

He shared sparks with his lover and commander so many times before, yet the time before he received information about his mission, he found out about the new spark in his chest. He knew every mission he went on, there was a chance of him offlining. He did have a dangerous job, after all. Even if he was just gathering information, there was always the chance of being discovered. While his speed could help him, he knew there was always a risk. The datapad he gave Longarm before he left was only to be read if he was never to come back, a written apology for not being able to survive and protect their sparkling.

But now… he felt disgusted with himself. The new spark was not Longarm's. Longarm didn't exist. There may be records about him, but he is false. Longarm is Shockwave. The new spark in his chest is a hybrid, sired by a Decepticon and carried by an Autobot.

He was too deep in thought that he wasn't aware of Shockwave coming closer until those clawed digits were forcing his chin up, making him look up to the Con that toyed with his emotions and spark, only to crush both. He hated this mech before him, even if he could feel something else deep down.

"I could offline you," Shockwave stated. "But I won't for many reasons. You being a Breeder and that sparkling inside of you are only a couple."

"Why-would-you-risk-it-though?" Blurr asked. "As-soon-as-you-let-me-go-I-could-run-right-up-to-Ultra-Magnus-and-expose-you-as-a-spy! Ishould!"

"But you won't," Shockwave chuckled, running the tip of one of his clawed digits over Blurr's cheek. "After all, how would that make you look? If you expose me, they may decide to look you over. After all, it isn't a well-kept secret that we do spend a little too much time around each other. And not to mention, just from that betrayal I can see in your optics, they will assume we are more than commander and subordinate. They may find out about you being a Breeder, lock you away in those Breeder camps. They will either extinguish that new spark or wait until it's born and then offline it simply because it is a hybrid. Even if they don't look you over, you will still bare that sparkling and you will still be found out."

Blurr's vents hitched. Yes, his sparkling was sired by a Con, but that doesn't mean he wanted it gone. It is his sparkling! He isn't going to let anyone harm it! But he did have to admit, Shockwave was right. "I-could-still-expose-you-then-leave-as-soon-as-they-caught-you," he argued. "They-won't-find-me-or-my-sparkling.-And-you-sure-as-pit-won't-either!"

"Even after finding out that your lover is in fact a Decepticon spy, you still wish to protect that sparkling," Shockwave noted, pleased.

"It's-MY-sparkling!-I-don't-care-who-sired-it,-it's-mine!-And-I'm-not-letting-anyone-hurt-it!"

"Our sparkling, my little Blurr," Shockwave corrected, caressing Blurr's cheek still. Blurr bared his denta then turned his head away from the digits holding his chin. It was then that he noticed that Shockwave had him in a corner. He hadn't even realized that he moved. "Now as I have said, I will let you remain online for many reasons."

"I-could-still-expose-you-as-soon-as-you-let-your-guard-down-or-turn-your-back!" Blurr spat at him.

"Which is why I will not let you leave my side," Shockwave pointed out before his digits slipped through a seam and teased a few wires. Blurr clenched his denta, trying not to moan out from the sudden, pleasurable sensation. As the blue mech's lover, Shockwave knew every sensitive wire, panel, and whatnot on Blurr. If Blurr won't listen to his words, he could always seduce him to his side and make it to where the speedster would never want to leave.

_**12345678987654321**_

Seven solar cycles had passed since the rest of the team left him alone at the base. He got a call from Optimus or Ratchet almost twice a day, morning and night, starting the evening after they left. Mostly to make sure he was okay and how things were at home. Bulkhead called, too, but those were more of a friendly and social nature. He couldn't blame the larger mech worrying about him. He worried like an older brother.

So far, Bumblebee was bored. He wondered if the Decepticons even knew of the rest of the team leaving the planet, even for a little while. He knew they weren't lazy and Megatron seemed like the type of mech to keep his troops in order and making sure they were doing something productive. Starscream seemed to be an exception from that, though one couldn't say Megatron let him get away with the slag he pulls.

He shook his head. What was he thinking? A nice peaceful week with no Decepticon attack was like a gift from Primus… but he still wished they would do something. Strangely enough, Bumblebee was itching for a fight. Out of his recent boredom, he already beat all the games he owned or ones that Sari brought over. He's listened to any music he's had multiple times so now he had them memorized. Now he had nothing to do and was feeling restless. He needed to have a decent fight.

As though Primus himself heard his thoughts, the alarm sounded. Bumblebee shot straight to the monitors, automatically typing away to figure who and where. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "Some action!" To his surprising delight, it was Blitzwing. Bumblebee couldn't tell what that crazy triple changer was up to, but he knew it couldn't be good. "I can handle him!" He quickly transformed then peeled out of the base, heading straight for Blitzwing's location.

_**Elsewhere**_

Megatron smirked as he viewed Blitzwing's destructive terror from a nearby rooftop. It was the perfect plan, after all. Have one of his minions cause some destruction and mayhem, the Autobots would come running to stop him, then he and his other soldiers would get rid of them once and for all. It was perfect!

But to his surprise, only the little yellow one arrived. Blitzwing didn't seem at all phased by his appearance, though he was probably Random right now and just chatting up a storm if the Autobot's faceplates were anything to go by. He looked quite confused then turned to terror before fire shot out of Blitzwing's shoulder cannons. About time. The maniac talked too much.

The yellow Autobot tried his best to stay out of the way, especially when the fire stopped and ice was shot instead. Though it was entertaining watching the Autobot attempt to skate, Megatron soon grew annoyed and bored. He jumped down from the building he was perched on, quickly transforming to make a gentler landing than just jumping and landing on his two pedes.

Bumblebee, though, never suspected Megatron being in the area. "Take this!" Bumblebee yelled, placing his stingers together and shooting a wave of electricity at the triple changer.

"Oh, zat tickles!" Random exclaimed with a laugh, rubbing his chassis where the electricity hit. "My turn!" The cannons on his shoulders aimed for him once more.

"Oh scrap!" Bumblebee yelped as Blitzwing's face changed to Hothead and fire shot out of the cannons. Bumblebee ran to the side and ducked behind a car that Blitzwing had already tossed to the side and was currently laying on its dented side.

"I VILL TURN YOU INTO ZCRAPMETAL!" Hothead yelled out, burning the car Bumblebee hid behind.

"Enough, Blitzwing!" someone ordered before the fire ceased.

"Yes, Lord Megatron," a calmer voice responded from Blitzwing.

Bumblebee gulped before he was suddenly grabbed by his scruff bar and pulled out from behind the car. "M-M-Megatron!" he said in fear. This… he could not handle.

"Indeed," Megatron chuckled. "Now I have a few questions, little Autobot. And you are going to supply the answers."

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Swindle stared out of the window boredly. His little ship was filled with things he managed to get from that Elite Guard ship, now he just had to find someplace to lay low and look over things. "Hmm…" he hummed to himself. "Well if I find anything good, Megatron may pay a nice price for it, and he's on Earth. Not to mention Lockdown is there, as well." He looked over his shoulder to the piles of items behind him. "Okay, decision made!"

With that, he input the coordinates for Earth then set it on autopilot before going to his recent haul. "Hmm… this would fetch a nice price," he commented randomly as he inspected. "Ooh, nice weapon upgrades. Lockdown may like this one… Hmm, this would be pretty useful to Megatron… No way! A Level 12 Security Key! The Skeleton Key to anything and everything Autobot made! Ha! Now that will fetch a really nice price!"

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**I had no idea what to do with Swindle, so I just did that. He's coming back to Earth and that's all anyone needs to know about him for now. Hope the chapter was enjoyed and please, do review! ^^**


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